Season 2
by Catydid
Summary: My idea of where it would go. Mick/Beth, Josef/O/C Re-posting the first three chapters to fix the format. Chapter 4 is almost done. Thanks for all of your comments!
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE Chapter One

_Finley Monahan was fairly sure nothing was broken,_ but everything ached nonetheless. The skinny crackhead she'd chased seven blocks and into an abandoned building had been stronger and faster than he'd looked. Finley had gotten a pipe to the head before she'd been able to tackle the bastard and cuff him a bit more roughly than necessary. Generally she tried to avoid taking the job personally because that was a one-way ticket to either becoming a bad cop or getting yourself killed – but she didn't think inflicting a deserved bruise now and again was anything to be worried about.

In the bathroom, she studiously avoided looking at her blossoming black eye and palmed a couple of Ibuprofen. Javon had gone to sleep like an angel, thank goodness, because Finley was quite sure a screaming toddler might have bumped the dull ache in her temple to migraine status.

A long, hot shower and an ice pack to her eye later, she was feeling something bordering on human when her cell phone rang. "Shake it Like a Salt Shaker" blared from her phone and she grinned. That had been Beth's ring tone for years, a private joke shared between the two, and Beth had sworn on more than one occasion that she would attempt to kick Finley's ass if she told anyone why – attempt being the key word, since Beth was more on talk than action.

"Hi babe."

"I'm glad you answered," Beth said. She paused, and Finley could hear voices in the background. "Listen, can you get away for a minute?"

Taking the now-dripping ice pack to the freezer, Finley didn't hesitate. If her friend sounded like that, all she needed was an address. "Where?"

"I'm at Mick's apartment. 1201 Palmdale."

Finley took a pen from the counter and scribbled down the information. "I'll be there as soon as I wake Olivia up."

Olivia Bernstein was her sweet, very understanding neighbor down the hall. Olivia had been widowed for ten years. She and her husband had never been able to have children, much to her sorrow. When Finley had moved in two years ago, pregnant, alone, and miserable, Olivia had gently and insistently taken Finley under her wing. She had been the one to take Finley to the hospital when her water broke, the first one to hold Javon after he was born, and she considered herself his grandmother.

Javon spent his days in a very nice day care a few blocks from Finley's job, but the nights she was called out, Olivia was always the one to babysit. And, Finley thought with a grin, she might complain about all the "newfangled gadgets" in Finley's living room, but there was never a night she went out on call that she didn't come home to find Olivia curled up with the cable remote.

The heels of her slightly impractical but entirely gorgeous new boots clicking on the pavement, Finley made her way into the underground parking garage. Her car, a 7-year-old Audi, was more expensive to maintain than she would have liked, but she would quite honestly rather face down angry gang members than deal with car salesmen, so when it came time to write the checks for the maintenance, she sucked it up. Darnell had been the one to find her the car. Truth be told, she considered herself independent to a fault, but there were some things she just didn't enjoy about being single, and car shopping was one of those.

On the drive to Mick's apartment, Finley considered what her friend had told her about the man she was dating, which was little to nothing. That in itself was unusual. Beth and Finley had been roommates in college, best friends for years, sisters in every way but blood. Beth had been ecstatically happy with Josh and eager to introduce him to everyone she knew – although privately, Finley had thought the Assistant D.A. was very nice and way too boring for Beth. She'd felt extremely guilty for thinking that way when Josh had been killed. Not for nothing, but Finley's opposite-of-boring taste in men had gotten her heart broken. There was something to be said for nice and safe.

She knew Beth had met Mick on a murder scene, and that the two had become friends. For some reason, Beth had not been very forthcoming about him in the beginning, and especially not now that she was dating him. Finley made a mental note to do some prying. What were best friends for, after all?

Her navigation system announced she had arrived at her destination, and Finley parked. She was embarrassed by it, but her lack of direction had made the nav system necessary. It was either that or pack the trunk with dry goods and hope that she was found before she ran out of food.

Out of habit, she checked the gun strapped to her side and concealed beneath her jacket. Unless she was with Javon, she didn't go anywhere unarmed. She hadn't yet managed to reconcile the idea of being a mother and carrying a gun.

The hallway leading to Mick's door was cool and quiet. Glancing at the art on the walls, Finley shivered. There was a scent in the air that made her uncomfortable. She'd spent enough time in morgues to recognize the scent of decay, but this was different – decay, but something darker still. There were times like this one that she wished her sense of smell was less sensitive.

She knocked on the frosted glass of the door and it opened to reveal Beth. Not for the first time, Finley wondered at how she and Beth had become friends. Beth looked like a china doll – blonde, blue-eyed, and perfect. When Beth had showed up in their dorm, Finley had despised her on sight. In the classic college tradition, they had gotten drunk together one night and had one of those inebriated conversations where they both revealed more than they would have had they been sober. Beth had told Finley about her kidnapping at the age of four. Finley had been impressed by the fact that the blonde was tougher than she looked, and Beth had learned that Finley was not quite as much of a bitch as she tried to make it seem. They had been friends ever since.

Beth smiled. "Hi, sweetie." She hugged her friend a little tighter than necessary and stepped back. "Come in."

Finley's first thought upon entering Mick's apartment was that she had chosen the wrong career. Clearly private investigators made way more money than lowly cops. There was nothing but space and sharp angles – not exactly child-friendly, she noted.

Her eyes took in the two men in the living room. One was seated, holding a glass of what looked like whiskey. It was the other man that captured her attention. He didn't look a day over thirty. With his Versace suit (Finley might not be able to afford anything in _Vogue_, but that didn't keep her from reading it every month), suspenders, sleeves rolled to reveal surprisingly muscular arms, he looked like any young stockbroker that she'd met and disliked. She couldn't explain what it was that made her wary of him, but there was something in the way he carried himself that immediately set her on edge. The men were having a low and angry conversation. Although she knew they were aware of her presence, neither of them looked in her direction.

Beth turned to Finley and as she did, saw the bruise on her eye. "Oh my God! What happened to you?"

Finley shrugged. "Nothing interesting."

Beth knew her friend well enough to know where her attention was. "Come with me for a second, okay? Let's get you a drink."

In the kitchen, although she knew it was futile, Beth lowered her voice. "Fin, listen to me – I know you are all about reality, but I need you to suspend disbelief, just for a little while."

Smiling, Finley took the glass of whiskey Beth offered. "And why is that?"

Nearly whispering now, Beth reached out to touch Finley's hand. "We need your help. I didn't want to bring you into this but I had no choice."

Finley turned her palm up to cup Beth's hand. "You know whatever it is, I'll help."

Beth took a deep breath. "I know."

Finley followed Beth into the living room. The man on the couch stood and she took a good look at him. This had to be Mick. Immediately she saw the attraction – he was movie star handsome, but he carried himself with an air of danger that just couldn't be faked. Personally, Finley appreciated it when someone knew they could kick your ass and didn't attempt to hide it.

She stuck her hand out and shook his. "I'm Finley Monahan."

He smiled and revealed perfect teeth. Well, in L.A., what else could you expect? "It's very nice to meet you, finally."

Finley glanced at Beth, who was looking at the ceiling. "Yes, finally. I've heard a lot about you."

Mick was apparently too polite to mention her shiner, but his friend had no such scruples. "Who got the better of you?"

Gritting her teeth, Finley tilted her head. "Better question – does he look worse than me?"

Seeing the direction of the conversation was about to be derailed, Beth quickly stepped in. "Josef, this is my best friend, Finley Monahan. She's with LAPD. Fin, this is Josef Kostan."

Keeping cool blue eyes to his, Finley gave a clearly fake attempt at a smile. "Pleasure."

Seated next to her friend on the couch, Finley found herself at a loss as to what this could possibly be about. Beth did tend to get herself into trouble, but nothing she'd never been able to get back out of.

Beth rubbed suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans and took a deep breath. She knew Finley's tolerance for b.s. was below zero. Life had been hard on her; circumstances had made her, if not bitter, then very practical. "Fin, we need your help with . . . an issue." She looked to Mick, at a loss as to how to continue.

"Finley, Beth has told me a lot about you. I know all of this may be hard for you to believe, but I'm asking you for her sake to be patient while we explain." Glancing at Josef, who was wearing his permanent smirk, Mick shrugged. "No easy way to say it, really. A list of names was delivered to an Assistant D.A. Josef and I are on that list. We have reason to believe that there is a group of people who are attempting to expose us, and we need to find out who they are and why."

Taking a healthy swallow of the whiskey, Finley lifted an eyebrow. "Expose you for what?"

An unmistakable growl filled the room. "Leave it to a cop to focus on that."

"Josef." Mick spoke his name quietly, but it got the point across. "We agreed."

"I still don't see the point in bringing another human into this, but I guess the more the merrier, right?" His displeasure clear, Josef drained his glass and went for a refill.

This was getting weirder by the second, but the words didn't slip past Finley. "Another human? What, and you guys aren't?" She laughed, but no one else did.

Mick waited until Josef resumed his position by the fire. "Finley, Josef and I are vampires."

Finley had a bad moment when the mouthful of whiskey she'd just swallowed attempted to go down the wrong way. Eyes watering, she managed a small cough before she choked out, "Excuse me?"

Beth turned to her. "I know, it's a lot to grasp, but it's true."

Finley didn't think that Beth would ever pull an April Fool's joke as elaborate as this one – not to mention the fact that it was August – but she was beginning to wonder if that blow to the head had been harder than she'd thought. "I'm sorry, did you just say you're vampires? The drinking-blood kind, not the walk around L.A. and pretend you're producers kind?"

Josef laughed before he could stop himself. He had to admit, the redhead with the black eye had guts. "Yes, the real kind."

In a clear gesture of disbelief, Finley leaned back and crossed her legs. Tilting her glass, she took a moment to stare at the amber liquid before turning her gaze on the two men. "Okay. Show me."

For a moment, neither of the men moved_. _A heartbeat later, their eyes had bled to white and they both had unmistakable fangs.

Finley had been a cop for eight years – long enough to see more than she would have liked to. She had seen the depths of human depravity and she would have put money on the fact that she could no longer be shocked by anything. And yet her breath was caught in her throat at the sight of something that could not be explained.

She cleared her throat. "All right. Which A.D.A. was the list delivered to and when?"

Josef had to admit, he was surprised, and that was a rarity. "That's it?"

Finley shot him a look. "My best friend asked me for help. You just showed me your very nice dental work. All I need to know."

Mick grinned at Beth. "You did say she was great." He neglected to mention that as he had been following Beth since she was four, he'd known exactly who Finley was before she'd walked through the door. That was information best shared at a later time.

Relieved, Beth smiled back. "I told you."

Mick leaned forward. "Here's what we know. A list was found under the door of Assistant D.A. Talbot last night. The list contained the names of myself and Josef, and at least two hundred other vampires in L.A."

Finley stared at her glass and had a brief internal debate before she handed it to Beth. Knowing her friend, Beth went to retrieve the bottle. "Were all of the vampires in L.A. on the list?"

Mick shook his head. "No, not all. There are at least four hundred of us. The ones on the list were the higher profile vampires."

A memory jogged free. Finley turned to Josef. "Being a philanthropist in the public eye wasn't a good idea, then?" She bared her molars.

Mick snorted and Josef gave him a look that could have cut glass. "Apparently not."

Beth returned with the bottle. "Fin, I'm sorry to tell you this way, but Mick and Josef are in danger." She ignored Josef's snarl. "Some may be less willing to accept help than others, but if we're going to get to the bottom of this, we need everyone we can get, and that includes people who may have access to information we don't."

Finley took a deep breath. "Okay. I need a copy of the list. I'll dig around but I need to know who I can trust. And I need assurance that no one will come near Javon."

Beth pressed her lips together. Mick knew about Finley's son, but Josef did not. "Josef, do you have a security detail who can protect someone?"

Arm propped lazily against the bookshelf, Josef was the picture of corporate smugness. Finley didn't need to know anything more about him to know that he had set all of her senses on edge, and it was not a feeling she liked. "Who am I protecting, exactly?"

"My son." Finley lifted her chin. "If it were just me, I wouldn't ask. But if I'm going to help you, my son can't be put in danger."

Josef turned unreadable eyes to her. "He won't be harmed."

"Thank you." Finley took what she knew had to be her last drink for the night. No point in tempting fate, after all. "Tell me the rest."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO Chapter Two

_Josef Kostan had been alive for 29 years._ He had been on this earth for four hundred and nine years. It would have been an understatement to say that he had small respect for humans, and little to no tolerance for them. While he did not kill them for sport – he had morals, after all – he fed on his freshies, he ordered the deaths of those who crossed him, and he had not been truly interested in a mortal woman since Sarah.

He had taken a liking to Beth, and that was surprising. Mick had been, and apparently always would be, the kind of vampire who despised his own existence. That brief year with Sarah had shown Josef what it would have been like to be truly loved, and it had not been an experience he was eager to repeat. The pain from the loss of that love was almost too much for even him to bear. As far as he was concerned, love was a weakness like any other, and Sarah had paid for his mistake.

Beth was different. Josef could see that she made his friend happy, and that was saying something, considering that the entire span of their acquaintance – 56 years, if his math was correct – he had spent seeing Mick miserable. Coraline's mind games had not helped matters any, but Mick had not wanted to be turned, and had never gotten over it. Josef could see glimpses of what Mick had been before when he was with Beth. While privately Josef might think Mick needed to accept who he was, he couldn't deny that he was a little jealous. Even with Sarah, he had never experienced what he saw in his friend's eyes when he looked at Beth.

This cop, Beth's friend . . . he had taken a knee jerk dislike to her, but he was old enough to admit that it wasn't entirely warranted. The woman had accepted the news of the existence of vampires with barely a blink.

With a few efficient taps on his keyboard, Josef brought up information on the entire tiny span of Finley Aurora Monahan's life. She was born in L.A. to a cop and a housewife, second-generation Irish immigrants. She had left home for college at 17, graduated at 21, and went straight to the Academy. Josef ran his tongue along his teeth as he read of her stellar record, right up until an apparently unplanned pregnancy at 27.

There was no father listed on the birth certificate, but police records were nothing if not thorough. At five months pregnant, Finley had been assaulted in an apartment shared by one Darnell Washington. She did not press charges, but the record remained available to those savvy enough to dig for it.

Josef leaned back, considering. He hadn't been alive as long as he had by being blindly trusting. Still, Beth's opinion did carry some weight, and Finley was . . . interesting. He glanced at his watch. He was due to meet her in an hour, at nine. Might as well have a snack while he waited.

_Finley resisted the urge to tug at her jacket._ She had spent entirely too much time already agonizing over her outfit than she considered necessary, and that was saying something for a woman who considered herself practical to a fault. She loved clothes, but she didn't have the budget or the time to obsess over them. Still, as she passed by the mirrored elevator, she couldn't stop herself from giving her image a once-over. Same boots, jeans, white shirt, and green jacket she'd put on this morning. She tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear, irritated. She knew she'd regret it when she let her hairdresser talk her into bangs.

She had to wonder why she was so concerned with how she looked. It wasn't as if she was trying to make a good first impression. She knew how she felt about Josef and he had made it clear he cared little for her. Still, that female part of her that didn't like to be seen in public without makeup – the part of her that she quashed on numerous occasions in the course of her job and the one she would dearly love to silence at the moment – would not shut up.

_You look fine,_ she thought to herself. _Stop worrying about it._

The man behind the desk in the lobby of Josef's office had looked extremely bored when she flashed her badge, until he checked his computer and found that she actually did have an appointment. With more courtesy than she considered necessary, he had insisted on escorting her to the elevators. It was in the quiet confines of one that she currently found herself, attempting to not give her internal pep talk aloud.

The elevator stopped at the top floor. Not a surprise. Josef Kostan, the human, had built a reputation for himself as a wealthy entrepreneur. Knowing what she did about him now, he had more than the years he looked to have amassed the wealth and power he had, and he was not the type to have an office on any less than the penthouse.

She had gone home last night and done her research. Josef Kostan's offices had been bombed last year. There had been no survivors, at least that had been the initial thought, but he had resurfaced a week later, saying he had been out of town at the time of the attack. As far as she could find, he was a wealthy genius who had built his business from the ground up at a very young age. She had to give credit where it was due – whoever did his background, had done a good job.

Finley stepped into the hushed hallway of a very opulent office. Entirely too much glass and steel for her taste, but if Mick's apartment was anything to go by, apparently the older you got the more you liked clean lines in your décor.

"Mr. Kostan?" she called. Okay, that was way too timid-sounding. "Josef Kostan? We had an appointment. Do you make a habit of letting your guests wander around unattended?"

She would have sworn she did no more than blink, and he appeared in front of her. He took her hand with a tilt of his head. "Forgive me. You're early."

She was about to protest when the sight of a shapely brunette emerging from a doorway to the left stopped her. The girl wore a vapid smile and a bandage on her wrist. "I'm early, or you're running late?"

The girl giggled, waved her fingers in Josef's direction and walked into the now vacant elevator. As the doors slid shut, Finley turned her gaze on Josef. "Let's get something straight. I don't like you, you don't like me, but can you at least keep your other – _business _– separate from ours?"

He held her gaze with enough intensity to make her want to look away, but she refused to back down. "I'll try to remember your delicate sensibilities next time."

Finley raised an eyebrow. "I seem to have misplaced my delicate sensibilities, seeing as how I was raised in the 20th century. I hardly think you've made it this far in life without knowing how to conduct a business. You had an appointment. Keep it."

She stepped around him toward the doorway she had seen the woman come out of. She glanced back toward him and was surprised to find amusement on his face. "Coming?"

With a roll of his shoulders, Josef followed the very irritating redhead into his office.

Although he kept a home in Malibu, truth be told, this was where he spent the majority of his time. Behind a locked door in the back, he had a freezer where he slept when his nights ran long. Like his home, here at his office there was a constant supply of freshies. He might admire Mick's resolve, but he, for one, didn't understand the appeal of blood in bags.

It was time to assert his authority over the situation. His desk was behind a bank of windows, currently displaying the lights of L.A. He took a seat behind it and watched as the cop assessed the room.

There wasn't any way he would have mistaken her for anything other than a cop, even had he not known. She had that air of watchfulness about her, the wary eyes of someone who knew better than to take things for face value. She wasn't beautiful, but she didn't blend into the crowd, either.

Finley finished scanning the room, and finally looked at Josef. "You have the list?"

He waited until she took a seat across from his desk. He placed the folder on the glossy black surface, slid it toward her with one fingertip. "You understand that the contents of this are confidential."

Her heartbeat sped up imperceptibly to show her irritation, but her face remained calm. "I do understand the situation, thank you."

She took a moment to read the list of names. "And nothing else was delivered?"

"No. A call was placed to A.D.A. Talbot that night. We do not know what was said. What we do know is that he gave this list to someone under him, with orders to investigate. To find the 'common denominators' among the names, as it were."

Finley glanced over the names. There were a few, like Josef's, that stood out because they were in the public eye. Doctors, lawyers, producers - your usual L.A. fare. The majority she had not heard of.

"I'm going to find out what I can. But you understand that I can't ask around too much without attracting attention, which is the last thing you need right now."

Josef tilted his head. "Discretion is important. But we also have to be aware that we need to remain a step ahead of whoever it was who sent the list, and they are already two steps ahead of us."

She nodded. "Point taken." She stood, hesitated, and sat back down. "Mr. Kostan – "

"Josef." He couldn't explain why, but he wanted to hear his name on her lips.

Finley struggled a moment, gave in. "Josef. In your entire . . . existence, have you ever been aware of a group that tracked vampires?"

He leaned back in his chair, tapping a hand on his desk. "Aware? Yes, in a secondhand way. There have been events in history that have been reported to be otherwise, but they actually were vampire cullings. Those who carried out the executions had to get their information from somewhere." He paused, dark eyes intense on hers. "There have been rumors for centuries of a group of humans who call themselves the Legion. It's been said they track the vampire population. When the population gets too large – whatever their idea of too large is – they mark the vampires they want to be killed."

Finley let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding. "Hmm. My history class skipped that part."

Josef's lip twitched. "Yes, well, we do try to stay under the radar."

Glancing at the folder in her hands, Finley returned his gaze. "You might try harder."

Josef leaned forward, and Finley firmly ignored the female in the back of her head that noticed how nicely his shoulders filled out his pressed red shirt. "Vampires tend to change names every 20 years, relocate. It's a necessary part of our lives, but I'm not ready to leave L.A. and neither is Mick. We need to know who is doing this."

She gave him a genuine smile, and he blinked, surprised. It took her from pretty to stunning. "We'll find out."

She stood again and walked toward the door. For a reason he didn't want to spend time figuring out, he didn't want her to leave yet. "Finley?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"You didn't ask me how old I am."

Finley raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't want to offend your . . . sensibilities. I assume even vampires don't like to be asked their age."

He smiled at her use of his earlier, old-fashioned word. "Vampire women don't."

"Nice to know there are some characteristics women don't lose, human or vampire."

"That one they don't. But in case you're wondering, I was born in 1599."

Finley had done her best to take this whole case at face value – they'd shown her proof of what they were, and she hadn't wanted to spend any more time than necessary thinking about what that meant. Looking at the man in front of her, a man who didn't look as if he'd seen his thirtieth birthday yet, but who had just told her he was four hundred and nine years old, she found she still couldn't wrap her head around it.

"Okay. I'm going to go home and do some research. Any recommendations? _Interview with the Vampire_, _Dracula_?"

Josef laughed. "None of them got it right."

Finley adjusted the purse on her shoulder. "Good to know."

He watched the woman as she walked out of the door. And wondered.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE Chapter Three

_There were some things that were inevitable when you became a cop._ Finley had long ago lost whatever innocence she had about human nature. Human beings were dirty, mean, and quite often soulless. There were a handful of people she trusted, and she had known them for years. She certainly didn't consider herself naïve.

And yet, in the two days since she had had that startling conversation in Mick's apartment, since she had discovered that vampires, creatures of myth and legend, actually did exist, she found herself looking at the world with new eyes. Who else had she come into contact with who wasn't what they seemed?

Now that she thought about it, she had some serious doubts about her apartment manager.

With a sigh, she rubbed her gritty eyes and gave up on making any more progress, at least for the moment. She had finished her regular shift, gone home and left again after Javon was asleep. She had long ago accustomed herself to running on little sleep. It didn't help her complexion any but she was a lifelong insomniac, and some things just didn't change.

To the world, she was Finley Monahan, homicide cop, hardass, someone you didn't want to cross. When she stepped through that door and picked up Javon, she became Mommy, the person who fixed dinner, gave him a bath, read him a story, kissed him good night. Those two realities were polar opposites, but she knew without a doubt that the one balanced the other.

She had been going through old police records, in what was not-so-affectionately referred to as the Morgue. This was the place where cases went and were never solved. Under flickering fluorescent lights, cheap aluminum shelves held box upon dusty box filled with hastily scribbled descriptions of beatings, murders, kidnappings, rapes. It certainly didn't make for soothing bedtime reading, but Finley had figured it was at least a place to start.

If what Josef had said was true, that the Legion had been around for centuries, there must be some record of them somewhere. Of course secret societies didn't make a habit of taking out an advertisement, but no matter how careful they were, they had to have left a trace. Finley didn't even know what she was looking for, but she knew she'd recognize it when she found it.

Her cell phone beeped, letting her know she had no signal. No surprise there, since she was currently in a basement with concrete walls. _Someone really needs to improve cell service,_ she thought with a smirk. You could charge whatever you wanted if you could guarantee a signal, especially when you actually needed one. Then again, they charged whatever they wanted to anyway.

She tossed the last folder back into the box on the table in front of her. She glanced at her watch, realized it was past one in the morning, and decided to call it a night. They were working under a deadline, but she knew if she didn't get at least some sleep, five a.m. would come a lot sooner than she'd like. There were some circles even makeup couldn't fix.

Rising, she stretched, wiped the dust off her hands, and picked up the box, intending to put it back where she'd found it. It was at that moment she realized she wasn't alone. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, her gut telling her that whoever was there wasn't there for friendly purposes.

Making a split second decision, she dropped the box and ducked behind a shelf, gun in hand.

"Who's there?"

There was silence in the room, a hollowed silence that beat against her eardrums in rhythm with her heart. A light flickered in the back of the room, and then all of the lights blinked out.

Truly pissed now, Finley decided against calling out again. Clearly, whoever was here wasn't going to play fair. She waited until her eyes had adjusted to the dark, then slowly rose. Before she could make her next move, someone spoke.

"Finley Monahan." The voice was low, menacing, and it sent an unwilling chill up her spine. "We know who you are. We know who you are helping. This will be your only warning. If you don't want anything to happen to that lovely child, _you will back off."_

Heart hammering, Finley took the safety off her gun. That motherfucker had another thing coming if he thought he could threaten her son and get away with it. Just as she started toward the voice, intent on inflicting some bodily harm, she heard the whistle of air as something came toward her head.

Her last thought was, _Goddamn it, not twice on one week._

_Josef couldn't have put the cause of his unease into words. _He only knew that he felt something was wrong, and nothing he did, not feeding, not working, not pacing, could make that feeling go away. It was singularly unpleasant and he was quite sure when he found the source of it, he would beat them senseless.

His desk phone rang shrilly. He saw from the Caller ID that it was Mick.

"Josef." Mick's voice was low. "Beth can't get hold of Finley. The last she talked to her, she was going to the archives at the station. She's worried."

Instantly Josef understood why he hadn't been able to relax, and in that understanding, found himself even more worried than he had been. _Deal with that later. _"I'm going."

"You have the detail on her son?"

"I do." And he was going to double it. He'd promised her the child wouldn't be harmed, and he was damned if he'd go back on his word. "Meet you there."

_It was close to two in the morning, _but even with a minimum of staff, the station was lit up and busy. Josef parked on a side street and considered. Normally he tried to avoid police stations as a matter of habit, and now he found himself in the singular position of going into one willingly.

The night air was hot and muggy, even for August. He would have liked to think it was the heat that was making him feel so uncomfortable, but he knew better.

He scented Mick and Beth before he saw them. "How are we doing this?"

Beth flashed her D.A.'s Office badge. "With this. Mick is helping me with a case and you are our witness."

They passed through the doors with more ease than he would have thought. It helped that Beth was a frequent visitor. In the elevator, Josef heard the wild hammering of Beth's heart and forced himself to focus. Just because he felt something was wrong, didn't mean it was, after all.

The archive room was long, low-ceilinged and dingy. It smelled of dust, cardboard, and . . . blood.

Mick was fast, but Josef moved so quickly, Beth was startled. She'd seen Josef in fights, and he hadn't moved that fast.

Finley was lying on her side, gun in hand, breathing shallowly. The hair at the back of her head was matted with blood. Josef felt her skull quickly and with his heightened senses, was relieved she didn't appear to have a fracture. At his touch, her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm going to kill the sonofabitch," she said clearly.

He sat back on his heels, eyes level on hers. "I don't doubt it."

"My God! Fin!" Beth knelt to help her friend to her feet. "What happened?"

"Doesn't matter." Finley's words were slightly slurred, and she shook her head in irritation. Big mistake. Bright lights popped behind her eyelids. "Fuck! That hurts. Javon. You have to check on Javon. They said they were going after him." There was a hint of hysteria in her voice, but she was holding herself together, Josef noted approvingly.

"We're going to get him now," he said. He took her arm. "I'm staying with you tonight. The more of us, the better the odds."

Any thought of protest was quelled by remembering the words she had heard in the dark. She had no doubt whoever was behind this would do exactly as he had promised.

She followed Josef to his car, reassuring Beth that she was fine. "I don't need to go to the doctor. Not now."

Mick thought otherwise, but he knew Josef well enough to know he would take care of her, whether she wanted him to or not. "Did you see who did this to you?"

Another head shake, and more cursing. "I really need to learn to be more vocal. No, I didn't see him. They hit the lights. He said he knew who I was helping, and if I didn't stop, he was going to go after Javon. I went toward the bastard but there was someone else there, and I was too busy focusing on Mr. Chatty to pay attention. Stupid." It was a rookie mistake and she was all too aware she could have lost her life for it.

Josef pulled out his cell phone, dialed. "Is the boy safe?" He listened for a moment. "We'll be there in ten minutes. _Do not let anything happen to him."_

The tightness in Finley's chest eased. She might curse herself for her stupidity, but at least Javon was safe.

Beth touched Mick's arm. "I'm going with them."

Mick looked at Josef. There was something in his eyes that made him shake his head. He said quietly, "Come home with me. He'll take care of her."

Beth started to protest, but she caught sight of the none-too-gentle way Josef was attempting to herd Finley to his car, and the ensuing argument. There were practically visible sparks.

"Oh." She smiled. "Fin, I'm going with Mick. I think it's best if neither of us is alone tonight. I'll meet up with you in the morning, okay?"

Finley took a moment from arguing with the supremely irritating Josef Kostan to say, "Okay," and then resumed the losing battle. "Why do I need to ride with you? It's not as if I have a fleet of cars at my disposal. I do kind of need the one I have!"

Mick stifled a laugh. He could see the proprietary look in Josef's eye and wondered if his friend was aware of what was happening. Somehow he doubted it. If he had, he knew Josef would have been running in the opposite direction, pride be damned. "Let's go."

In the leather confines of Josef's very expensive sports car, Finley folded her arms and tried not to pout. She knew it was childish, but she didn't like being told what to do, and she liked having her opinion ignored even less. "This really is unnecessary."

"It's necessary to me. You're under my protection, as is your son. Your car can stay here. I will have someone retrieve it later. You're not leaving my sight."

Biting back a curse, Finley gave up. Her head hurt, her shoulder ached where she had hit the ground when she fell, and she wanted nothing more than a hot bath, a soft bed, and some painkillers.

They were silent on the drive to Finley's apartment. Josef drove considerably faster than the posted speed limit, but to Finley it seemed an eternity before they pulled in front of her building. It was an old one, pre-war, a little rundown but she loved it nonetheless. She had had nothing but happy times there, and that wasn't something she could have said about anywhere else she had lived.

He followed her through the door, across the black-and-white tiles in the lobby that Javon loved, to the elevator. She had to admit, whoever it was he had watching her apartment was good – she didn't see any sign of them. Then again, vampires would be better than humans at going undetected.

She pulled her keys from her pocket and was irritated to notice that her hands were shaking. Embarrassed, she tried to steady them against the door.

Quietly, Josef took the keys from her hand and opened the door. He said nothing. Finley wasn't sure whether to be grateful or humiliated.

Olivia was asleep on the couch, a rerun of _I Love Lucy_ flickering on the TV. Finley shook her shoulder gently. "I'm home."

Blinking, the older woman looked around, caught sight of Josef, and nearly jumped. The entire time she'd known Finley Monahan, the girl hadn't so much as said two words to a man unless she was cuffing him, let alone brought one home.

She could see what direction Olivia's thoughts were headed, and was inexplicably mortified. It was almost as bad as the thought of her father thinking she was having sex. "Not what you think," she whispered. "Listen, go home, lock the door, don't answer it unless it's someone you know."

A dozen unasked questions flickered across her face, but Olivia knew from looking at Finley that now was not the time for conversation. "Be safe."

Needing the contact, Finley squeezed Olivia's hand. "You too."

Finley was at the doorway of Javon's room before the door had closed behind her neighbor. His nightlight glowed gently, lighting the room just enough for her to see everything in place as she'd left it. Javon was snoring in his crib, blissfully unaware of any danger. And he was going to stay that way, she promised herself.

She ran a hand over his dark hair, marveling as always that he was hers. "My baby," she whispered quietly.

Josef, having no human constraints of needing light to see, saw the scene as clearly as if it were daylight. He saw the way Finley looked at her son, and Josef knew a rare moment of regret. Every so often, he had wondered what it would have been like to have a child. Vampires could sire other vampires, but they could father no children. He supposed that was Fate's way of keeping things fair. Vampires might look at humans as food, or playthings, but a vampire who had lived as long as he had knew that creating life was the one area in which humans had the upper hand.

With a quiet sigh, Finley stepped away from the crib and toward the door. Josef could have walked away . . . could have been out of the front door faster than she could blink. Yet he stood there until they were face to face. She stopped just in front of him, the light from the open doorway spilling across her body, turning her hair to flame.

For a moment she stood still, every heartbeat keeping him in a trance. Their eyes met for one beat . . . two . . . and still neither of them moved.

Accepting that this was a contest she didn't have the backbone to pursue at the moment, Finley looked away first. She stepped aside, around him, and toward the living room.

The spell broken, Josef followed her. Watched as she went through what was clearly her nightly ritual: filling the coffee maker, setting it to automatic brew, straightening an already neat kitchen. She could feel his eyes on her every move as strongly as if he touched her. Shaken, she finally caught his gaze.

"I don't think there's enough room in my freezer for you." She indicated the apartment-size side-by-side with a flick of her wrist. Beth had filled her in on some of the more interesting vampire living habits. "So where are you sleeping?"

He moved forward until he stood over her. Instantly irritated, she stuck her chin out in a gesture of defiance. Amused, he raised an eyebrow. "Someone's going to take you up on that eventually, you know." Before she could blink, he had her spun around, surprisingly gentle fingers examining the back of her head.

Finley let out a hiss as he probed the wound. "You don't need stitches. Apparently you're even more hard-headed than you look."

Slapping his hand away, she growled, "I don't need you to baby me!"

Instantly his eyes lit with a glow that could only be described as inhuman. Her breath caught in her throat, Finley did what she hadn't done in years – she ran.

He caught her before she'd taken two steps. Face inches from hers, he waited until her breathing had calmed, until he knew he had her full attention. "Believe me, Finley," he said quietly, "I am not going to baby you."

Her heart stuttered, but she was too proud to admit it. "Good. Then we agree on that point, at least." She tugged on her imprisoned hands, and to her slight regret, he released her. "You can sleep on the couch."

Without another word, she walked to her bedroom. She would have liked to close the door, but Javon would be up in a few short hours, and she'd be kidding herself if she thought a flimsy piece of plywood between her and Josef would be any kind of barrier. In the solitude of her tiny bathroom, she changed into a pair of cotton pajamas, slid between the cool sheets of her bed. And lay staring at the wall.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR Chapter Four_Josef had spent the night alternately cursing Beth – Finley was her friend, _after all – and wondering why the hell he didn't just go into Finley's bedroom and get her out of his system. She wasn't any different than other women, was she? She had attitude, but how many other women in L.A. could say the same? And with bigger boobs, he thought with a snort.

Yet he stayed where he was, on her colossally uncomfortable couch, awake, listening to her. Listened to her breathe, in and out, somehow soothed by the rhythm of her fragility.

At five her alarm went off. She groaned and slapped the snooze button. Ten minutes later it went off again and she let loose a string of creative, mumbled curses, shut it off, and rolled out of bed. He heard the hiss and gurgle of the coffee maker, a sound he certainly hadn't had much experience with until a few recent late nights, and early mornings, around Beth.

It had been more than fifty years since he'd spent the night with a mortal woman and not fed on her, at the very least. He went through more varieties in a week – blonde, brunette, pale, dark – than a normal man had the time or the stamina for in a month. He liked his life. When he needed to be around someone who knew him, he had Mick. That was enough, had been enough for more years than he could count.

Yet he found himself unaccountably charmed as Finley stumbled out of her room, hair in complete disarray, eyes bleary, and made a beeline for the coffee maker.

He waited until he heard her pour a cup, take a few swallows, before he stood.

Her back was turned to him, but he saw the moment she became aware of his presence. She straightened her shoulders as she turned to him. Raising the cup to her lips, she sipped. "Sleep well?"

Josef knew her defenses were up, and he couldn't explain why he felt the need to poke at them. "Didn't sleep at all, actually. You snore like a truck driver."

That earned him a glare. "So I've been told."

He took a seat across the counter from her. "Headache?"

Her eyes shadowed, she gave a one-shouldered shrug that told him more than words could have. "I've had worse."

"I think that hard head of yours is fine. Still, you're going to the doctor today."

Eyes narrowed, she pointed a finger in his direction. "You know, amazingly enough, I have managed to take care of myself for almost thirty years without your help. If I need to go to the doctor, that's a decision I'm capable of making myself, thanks." She set her cup down on the counter with a snap.

As she walked past him, he stood, caught her arm, held it with the barest whisper of contact. "You need to go. For your son's sake, if not your own. Who is going to take care of him if you're hurt, Finley?"

He could see the argument on her face, but she sighed. "I hate going to the doctor."

Josef quirked a lip. "Yes, well, it is inevitable in some cases, so I remember."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and yawned hugely. "What do you know? Doctors in your day thought bloodletting was a good idea. I wouldn't have wanted to go either."

A chuckle escaped him before he could help it. "Remind me to tell you about my leech experience."

She ran her tongue across her teeth. "That we'll have to save until after I've eaten breakfast. Maybe after I've digested. I'll get back to you on that one."

She took a long shower, the hot water hitting her bruised skin with the sharp edge of pleasure and pain. She needed to clear her head, needed to get even the smallest grasp on reality. Her idea of what reality really was had adjusted in the last two days, and she badly needed that time to herself to function – and if she'd learned anything as a single mother, it was that you took time when you found it.

Stepping from the shower, droplets clinging to her skin, she caught her reflection in the mirror. The bruise around her eye had faded to ugly green. Gingerly, she touched the bump at the back of her head. Vanity made her wish she looked her best – not for Josef, she told herself, just in general. Still, she couldn't stop herself from using the small hand mirror on her counter, taking a closer look at those fine lines around her eyes. No, she was not looking forward to this birthday, even though she wouldn't give up the person she was now for the face she'd had five years ago.

She washed her face, took her time, rubbed cream on her skin. And knew that those years had not been wasted, no matter what she had gone through, because they had made her who she was.

Finley had just finished getting dressed and applying makeup to cover up the worst of the damage when she heard Javon stir.

"Mom-ME?"

Javon was standing in his crib, rubbing a fist in one sleepy eye. When he saw her, he gave her a toothy grin and lifted his arms. "Mom-ME!"

Finley picked him up and pressed a kiss to his head. As she dressed him and he chattered to himself in his unique mix of English and baby words, she pondered the changes in her life. She would have been the first to say she wasn't the maternal type. She hadn't planned on having children and could honestly say she didn't really like other people's kids – still didn't, truth be told. But she could never have anticipated the feeling she'd had upon looking at Javon for the first time, red, angry, and screaming. Even now, when he drove her absolutely crazy getting into everything, she adored him. There was a lot to be said about instinct.

She set him on his feet and he took off like a shot for the living room, yelling, "Nana!" The world would stop revolving on its axis if he didn't have his morning banana. She'd found herself grateful on more than one occasion that she happened to have a car with leather interior – she knew from unfortunate experience, it was much easier to get mashed banana out of leather than upholstery.

Carrying a wet diaper in one hand and Javon's pajamas in the other, Finley walked into the living room to find Javon holding Josef hostage by the refrigerator. There appeared to be some negotiation going on, something along the lines of wet fingers threatening the tailored lines of Josef's pants. Finley took one look at Josef's face and would have laughed had she not felt sorry for him. He was clearly out of his element.

With practiced skill she tossed the diaper in the garbage can, washed her hands, peeled a banana and held it in front of Javon's nose with the air of a lion tamer with a piece of meat. Quick fingers grabbed the piece of banana she offered and he retreated to his little stuffed chair in front of the TV.

"Did my car make it back? His car seat is in it."

Josef brushed at his pants in a seemingly involuntary gesture. "Yes, it's here."

Finley poured another cup of coffee and went to turn on the television for Javon's cartoons. Morning routine gave her another two minutes to finish her second cup and hit the road. She went to the closet by the front door, pulled a light, short-sleeved black jacket out, shrugged it on.

"Ready to go bye-bye?"

Javon ignored her for a moment, then gave her a look that never failed to remind her of his father. There were days when she felt she'd done nothing more than produce a clone of Darnell. " 'Kay, bye bye!"

He waved to the television, stuffed the remainder of the banana in his mouth, and pressed the power button.

The three of them walked down the hall to the elevator and down to her car. It was completely mundane and at the same time absolutely foreign to Finley. She had never had a man over since she'd moved into this apartment, never had a man stay the night. Doing an odd version of the walk of shame down her own hallway brought back a few unfortunate college memories but she had no recent frame of reference.

_Time to start dating, _she thought, _if only I actually wanted to._

Javon skipped down the hallway and jumped onto the elevator, pressing the button for the parking garage enthusiastically. They rode to Javon's day care in silence, or would have had Javon not been yelling "Look!" every minute.

Finley took Javon into the early-morning chaos of the day care and waved as he ran to his teacher. She would have taken Josef in with her - considering how he'd looked at being confronted with one child, she would have loved to have seen the look on his face at the sight of two dozen of them - but she didn't think it wise to push a vampire so close to his bed time.

She returned to the car, where Josef was barking out mile-a-minute instructions into his cell phone. At some point in the craziness of the last night, she'd completely forgotten he was a man with a multitude of businesses to run. She didn't exactly enjoy the idea of being indebted to anyone, most particularly a man like Josef who seemed to have an uncanny ability to get under her skin, but manners were far too ingrained for her to keep silent. Aideen Monahan might have despaired that everything she told her daughter fell on deaf ears, but that one had certainly made a dent.

Finley cleared her throat, waited until Josef had finished his conversation. "I . . . um . . . wanted to thank you for watching out for Javon."

Josef turned to her, brown eyes surprised. One side of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. "You're welcome, Finley."

There was a moment of awkward silence. Finley tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and cleared her throat again. "So where am I dropping you off?"

The smirk turned into a full smile. "Trying to get rid of me?"

Finley attempted to look innocent. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I told you that you're going to the doctor. And you are. I'm not that easily distracted." One slim finger tapped in coordinates on her navigation screen. "I believe that's where your doctor is. I play golf with your Chief," he said, seeing the light of protest in her eyes. "You're clear for the morning."

Any sort of gratitude she'd been feeling turned instantly into annoyance. "I'll go. But don't think you can make a phone call to my boss every time you want your way."

Josef slipped sunglasses on and leaned back in the seat. "Whatever you say, Finley."

Gritting her teeth, she drove.

_Josef had remained in the waiting room _while she went into the exam room. Thank God for small favors, because her current outfit of hospital gown and socks was definitely not her best look.

Her doctor examined her head and made a couple of non-committal tsk-tsk noises. She couldn't remember his name because she'd never actually seen him before, and now she was remembering why she disliked coming to the doctor for herself. Now if she'd been asked, she could have recited Javon's medical record number, his pediatrician's name, and the name of all of the nurses on staff. The joys of having a 2-year-old.

"Well now . . ." he paused and looked at his screen ". . . Finley. You appear to have gotten quite a bump on your head. You don't have any symptoms of a concussion, so I don't think it's necessary to order any x-rays. I can prescribe some medication for the pain, if you'd like."

She was already jumping down from the table. Pride be damned, she wanted to be out of there as quickly as possible. "No, that's fine, thank you."

The doctor left and she scrambled back into her clothes. Josef stood as she came back into the waiting room. She hadn't thought it possible for him to look more pale than he already was, but she could see the morning was wearing on him.

"Do you want to go to Mick's? Beth is waiting for me."

He gave her a nod. "Yes." He took her elbow as they walked to the car. Old-school manners, Finley thought with a small smile.

In the cool quiet of Mick's apartment, she found herself back in the kitchen with Beth. Mick and Josef had poured themselves glasses of – well, Finley would rather not think of _what_, because while she might have a strong stomach, it had certainly clenched when she'd seen Mick take the bags out from his hidden refrigerator. It probably hadn't helped that she hadn't eaten anything in almost 24 hours. Her stomach growled.

"I don't suppose he has any actual food?"

Beth laughed. "That would be a no. Why don't we get some breakfast?"

She walked into the living room, spoke quietly to Mick. "We'll be around the corner." Beth leaned in to give him a kiss, lingered. Unwillingly, Finley's eyes caught Josef's. She was suddenly all too aware of the way her heart sped up, her breath caught in her throat.  
Realizing the effect he had on her was like a bucket of cold water over her head. What was she _thinking?_

She grabbed her purse and was halfway down the hall before Beth caught up. Laughing, Beth caught her arm. "Excuse me, what was that all about?"

Finley shook her head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

They walked around the corner to a diner, sat in a booth in the corner. Finley smiled as she remembered the countless times they'd done the exact same in college, miserably hungover more often than not. Years and circumstances had changed, but she was, as always, ever grateful for her friend.

She waited until they'd placed their orders, sat back on the cracked vinyl. "So, do you want to tell me how you fell into this?"

Beth's blue eyes twinkled. "You remember when I told you about the man who rescued me when I was kidnapped?"

Finley took a sip of her coffee. "Of course." Her eyes widened. "That was Mick."

Beth nodded. "It was Mick. It was his ex-wife who kidnapped me."

Finley blew out a quick breath. "Wow. Talk about history."

"I know. And Mick was the one who was watching over me." Beth had told Finley that after her kidnapping, she'd always had the sense she was being protected. Finley, ever practical, had figured it was just Beth's way of dealing with the trauma.

"How did you deal with it when you found out?" Finley narrowed her eyes. "That's not the kind of thing he could have just walked up to you and said."

Beth shook her head. "He didn't tell me for a while. He told me he was a vampire first, actually." Her lips quirked at the memory. "I'm not sure which was harder for him to say. But in the end, it all just . . . made sense."

The waitress came back with their plates. Finley grabbed the salt and sprinkled it liberally on her eggs. At Beth's look, she shrugged. "What? It makes everything taste better."

"So you say." She ate a forkful of hash browns, eyed Finley. "It was really hard for me to not tell you, you know."

"I'm not offended. It probably would have taken me quite a while to figure out how to tell you." She grinned. "You might have mentioned how hot Mick is, though."


End file.
